Dumb Luck
by Spread A Little Happiness
Summary: For some strange, illogical reason they thought I could win these games. And for some strange, ridiculous reason, I believed them.
1. Chapter 1

_**Greetings all, and welcome to this little story of mine. Anything that needs to be explained will be done so along the way! Also, this is set in an AU for those of you wondering.**_

_**For now, I give you chapter one! Enjoy, dear readers.**_

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This year I was going to do it. This year, I wouldn't stand there silently as someone's name was pulled from the bowl.

"And the _female tribute_ for District 9 is Rowan Precipice!"

Repeating the same phrase I whispered every year, I surprised even myself when my voice was louder, much louder then what it usually was.

"I volunteer as tribute!"

Murmurs begin to rise through the crowd as I stood, dumbfounded, as the realisation of what I had just done dawned on me.

I had just volunteered for myself.

This year, with the heat beating down on sun kissed skin and scared children, my voice rang out from the backs of the lines towards the ostentatiously dressed man who stood on the platform at the front, his gaping mouth almost touching the microphone. The crowd that had been gathered in the stoned courtyard in front of the Justice Building began to fall out of the perfectly formed lines we had been forced into at the start of the reaping. Apart from the factories and housing, it was one of the only areas of the district not covered in fields of grain, grain that would eventually turn golden, be processed and then sent out to the rest of the districts. We had a large population which meant that the courtyard was close to being filled with terrified children and praying mothers.

Although the murmurs remained, no one stepped out of my way or turned to stare at me as many searched for the source of the voice, some even glancing over me as I stood clearly in their view, my cheeks flooding with embarrassment. I just passed under their gaze; something I was good at here. For eighteen years, almost to the day, I'd lived my life here and yet, my face meant nothing to them and they meant very little to me. It seemed even the Peacekeepers had trouble distinguishing who shouted out from the group of older teens at the back and so I strode forward, the potential tributes, who were safe for another year, parting before me. My lips pulled back into a grin as they shuffled out of my way, their eyes widening as many tried to recall a memory of my face. If they had any, it would have just been in passing. People here kept their eyes down and cared for no one but themselves and their kin; in my case, I only had myself to worry about.

I passed the baker's daughter; a golden haired beauty that had boys lining up at her father's door in an attempt to be the first in line or her affection. She turned nineteen later this year and so she would finally be able to wed after today and begin her perfect little family. I recognised the steely blue eyes of the blacksmith's niece, a young girl who had been lucky enough to avoid the orphan house that stood near the edge of the housing area in the district, in the poorer part of our little filed enclosed town. If I had passed the boys, I knew I would have noticed faces there too, faces that I had spent an hour a week with in the confined, stuffy classrooms of the school house that we were 'lucky' to attend. But none of them would recognise me.

With that in mind, I knew what my face would portray before I even glanced up at the large screens on either side of the justice building; my cheeks were finally cooling and my eyes had lost the surprise that had caused them to widen. Instead, my face was set in a perfect mask of indifference, with a slight smile tugging at the corner of my mouth making it appear that I was happy to be reaped for the games. On the inside, my heart thudded against my ribcage as fear bit at my insides. Even though I was alone here, it's not like I wanted to die. Just because my life meant very little, even to the Capitol, didn't mean that I wanted to rush off into battle, sword held high above my head only to feel the stinging pain of death. Ha, like I could use a sword. I wasn't being naïve, rushing up to the stage with thoughts that I could win these games. Chances are, I'd come back to this district chopped up into little pieces to be thrown in a hole in the ground because there wasn't anyone there to collect my body. The thought was quite humorous to my racing mind and my smile grew wider. People continued to part for the smiling, lunatic girl who moved among them, the Peacekeepers trailing my path at the other side of the rope.

Ducking beneath the 'barrier' I was met with two white uniforms at either side of me, their grip on my arms quite tight. Sure, it wasn't uncommon for a chosen game player to try and run and clearly they thought I must have something up my sleeve as they escorted me to the bottom of the steps before nudging me forward. Praying I wouldn't trip on the steps on my way up, I tried to keep my chin raised, my face strong. The voices were gone now, leaving a lone silence as many pairs of eyes followed my journey to stand beside our escort, his hand held open to me as his face regained its composure.

"District _Nine_; your female tribute!" He presented me to the crowd but I kept my gaze fixated above their heads, seeing no point in trying to find a friendly face amongst the stone faced boys and obviously relieved girls. He pulled me towards the microphone, pressing his face against mine so both our mouths were next to the metal object. "Tell us your _name_, petal."

"Rowan Precipice" I answered.

There was silence as the crowd tried to process what had happened. I could see them murmuring amongst themselves, some of them even turning around on the spot in search of the person who had volunteered, for the voice that had shouted from somewhere to the back of the tributes.

"Well, _lucky_ for you sweets, you had _someone_ volunteer for you. Can that brave young woman _please_ step forward?" He asked, nudging me slightly in the elbow, as if telling me to move, that I wasn't supposed to be here.

"No" I responded, feeling colour beginning to heat up my cheeks again "I was the one that volunteered."

Silence again.

"You…volunteered _for_ yourself?" He turned to face me, his voice still picked up perfectly by the microphone.

Nodding in affirmation, I was startled by the laughter that came from him and then from the crowd. They thought this situation was funny?! Here I was, waiting to be shipped off to my death and I had just volunteered for myself after my name had been drawn, and they thought it was funny? The laughter from the crowd was slightly strained, however, almost like a release of tension rather than them actually finding the whole thing humorous. But the escort was genuine; his laughter booming out over the gathering, his voice high pitched and rather unnerving.

"Oh sweetie, it's _going to be_ so much fun to work with you!" He gasped, wrapping a long arm around my shoulders. The laughter from the crowd had stopped already and the tension took its place again. "And now, let's _see who our_ male tribute is, shall we?"

He said it so calmly and sweetly, as if he was drawing a raffle for a prize. Well, I suppose in his eyes being a tribute was a prize and an honour in some strange, twisted way. I took his movement towards the other bowl, containing the boys' names, as my cue to step away from the microphone. With nervous hands working at the edge of my tattered shirt, I waited for the identity of one of my enemies to be revealed. The silence which had superseded the previous laughter seemed to grow as the escort swirled his hand through the slips of paper. He eventually withdrew his hand and, clutched between two manicured fingernails, was a tiny sheet of white doom. It seemed so ridiculous now, that people would fear such a thing. But I knew that, whether I died in that arena or miraculously survived, I would never fear those papers again.

"And the male _tribute_ for District Nine is; Locke Golding!"

I watched as several pairs of eyes swivelled towards a short blonde haired boy, his own eyes widening in fear as those around him visibly flinched away from him. His gaze found mind and I tried to smile at him encouragingly but all I managed to do was frighten him even more. A woman's cry tore through the soft noise of the crowd and I could only assume it was the cry of his mother, horrified at the fact that she had to send her young boy off to be killed.

"I volunteer as tribute!"

The voice was loud and booming and distinctly male. It had sounded from somewhere near the back of the group of boys, signalling it was one of the older ones. Murmurs rose again as the second volunteer made his way toward the crowd. Well, did I count as a volunteer? Considering the fact that if any other name apart from my own had been called I would have still volunteered then, logically, I counted myself as a volunteer. A short burst of clapping hands drew me away from my musings. Turning towards the young man who was making his way up the steps, I began to analyse him, taking in his tall stature and broad shoulders. He was built well; with strong legs and thick arms. The look on his face portrayed all; he was confident, and it wasn't a false confidence that I had tried to comprise. His eyes, a clear blue, caught and held my gaze as our escort, whose name I should probably learn, introduced the male tribute. I missed the name because, as the escort continued his little speech, I heard none of it as my attention focused on the tall, burly young man before me who, judging from his arrogant smirk, I'm sure would be trying to kill me soon.

"Now, let's _be nice_ and shake hands!"

The underlying hint of an order was clear in his tone and the large, tanned hand of my competitor almost swallowed mine whole. It was a painful experience in the sense that he tried to squeeze the life out of my hand. While the intention behind the show of strength must have been to try and intimidate me, it merely annoyed me instead. With a practised smile shaping my lips, mirrored on his own tanned face, to everyone else it would seem as if we were the perfect district companions. Again, the claps were soft and almost non-existent. The escort's voice sounded over the small noise;

"And _may the odds_ be ever in your _favour_."


	2. Chapter 2

_**Dear Readers, I give you chapter two! I do hope you enjoy it and thank you to those who read the last chapter.**_

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Once the escort had gotten a final reaction from the relieved crowd, we were ushered into the justice building by several Peacekeepers. We passed through the main hall, probably the single grandest room in the entire district with its dark wooden reception desk and pristine white tiled floors, and headed down a long, surprisingly dark corridor. The sun, which shone so brightly in the fields, didn't seem to reach in here; its warmth unable to seep through the walls of this rarely used building. The other tribute and I were pushed into separate rooms to wait the sorrow filled farewell of our loved ones.

The room itself was spacious with sparse furnishings. I took a seat on one of the armchairs, unable to distinguish the fabric beneath my fingertips, and waited for, well, no one. There was no one here that would miss me, no one to come say goodbye. My father, dead in a factory accident, and my mother who had drunk herself to death soon after, had been gone for years now. I was an only child, one who didn't know how to play nicely with others. So I spent my life near alone, dancing alone the line of chance every year as I continuously signed up for tesserae. And now my name would never be put in the reaping bowl again.

I suppose now, sitting in this chair on my own, with only days left to my life, was as good a time as any to think about my solitary life and my dead parents. Most would think me ungrateful, since our districts had a community home due to the number of orphaned children, but how could I be grateful for a place that only acted as a room for me to sleep in, and share with twenty other children, and a source of small portions of food? Whether I would have done better on my own or not, I can't say but even in that melancholy building filed with lost little children, I was alone. There was no one there I wished to say goodbye to either.

Startled, I turned towards the door that had just opened; a family who I had never met entering 'my' room. Thinking that perhaps they had mistaken which rooms the tributes were in, I paid them little attention, turning back to the slightly dirty window, my eyes tracing patterns in the light layer of dust covering it. Then the mother stepped forward;

"The Peacekeepers told us that you haven't had any visitors." She said, after a moment of pause. "Your parents must be..."  
"Dead" I cut across her, watching her now from the corner of my eye. Her reaction, and that of her family, was predictable.

There was silence until; "This is Locke"

The young boy was presented to me, his cheeks still filled with a hint of baby fat. The rest of him was thin and wiry, the body of someone who didn't have enough to eat. Of course, he looked like the perfect innocent little child. And I was altogether confused as to what they were doing in my room. I didn't know them and I'm pretty sure they had no idea who I was; so why were they here? Nevertheless, the young boy seemed almost nervous to stand in front of me.

"Hi" He did this strange, waving motion with one hand, the other clasped behind his back. "I j-just wanted t-to say good luck"  
His other hand appeared from its hiding place behind him and he offered me a length of pale green ribbon. It could have been silk, but I wasn't able to tell since I owned nothing made of such a fine fabric. But I know it must have cost a pretty penny and something told me this family weren't exactly rich, if their obviously starved faces and the way the young girl, who was the near mirror image of her brother, was eyeing the silver candelabras on the low table were any indication. I stood from my chair, holding the young boy's gaze and very much aware of the supportive hand his mother had wrapped around his tiny shoulders. Crossing my arms under my chest, I tried to swallow past the lump in my throat and speak in an unwavering voice;

"Listen, kid; keep your little gift. I have no need for tokens. I'll probably just get it covered in blood anyway"

I expected him to cry and for a moment, I thought he would. But he was pulled into his mother's side, whose gaze I wasn't able to meet.

"I'm sorry" She spoke, gliding her hand through her son's mop of hair. "It hurt me to think that you had no one to come visit you before you left and Locke said you smiled at him. He just wanted to wish you luck and to have something that reminded you of home when you were in the games."

His mother then turned them both and moved to leave, her young son who had escaped death at least this year, wrapped into the folds of her skirt. The father, a tall, burly man with a tan that portrayed that he worked in the fields and not the factory, rapped his knuckles against the wooden door. A moment later it was opened, a Peacekeeper appearing. I wonder if he was relieved that they were done with me so quickly. Or, maybe he just didn't care.

For some reason, an empty feeling settled in the pit of my stomach and, refusing to care about someone I didn't even know, I reasoned to myself that I was simply hungry. And yet, I still watched them leave.

The little boy, whose face I probably would never forget, stalled for a moment, breaking away from his mother's hold and turning to look at me. With a small smile now on his face, he reached up and left the ribbon on the wooden set of drawers next to the door before he was once again encased by his mother's embrace. Then the door shut and I was alone again.

Locke and his family were my only visitors but I had to wait while my male counterpart bid goodbye to the people that cared for him before I was retrieved. After what seemed like an age, a Peacekeeper eventually opened my door again and beckoned me out. On the way out, I had reached for the ribbon before I even realised what I was doing. With a nod from the Peacekeeper, to assure me that I could have this token, I brought it to my side, clutching it tightly in my hand. We were brought down another long corridor towards a station. There sat a sleek, silver train, with a compartment that was going to be ours for the next three days. I was actually slightly grateful that we were one of the districts further out from the Capitol as it meant that we'd have more time to spend in luxury than the other tributes that we'd pick up along the way. Their own carriages remained empty for now. The station was bare, almost abandoned apart from a handful of Peacekeepers and our escort. We boarded and I tried not to let my mouth fall open in shock as we were lead into a room that was filled with sparkling glass, steel devices and rich furnishings.

"Righto, go get _settled_ into your new rooms and meet me back _here for dinner_ in about an hour." The escort said, clapping his hands excitedly as if this was the greatest thing in the world. Or maybe he just loved trains?

With a roll of my eyes, I left him in the apparent dining room, if the large, dark wooden table was anything to go by, and made my way down another narrow corridor, claiming the very last room as my own. It was a decent sized room, with the 'essentials' and, remarkably, sets of clothes neatly folded in a tall wardrobe. Rifling through them with curiosity, I discovered that they were mostly fitted pants and plain tops and shirts. The room also had its own bathroom with a complicated shower. Deciding to try and tackle the device later, I sat myself down on the carpet after placing my ribbon on the bedside locker, knowing that if I went anywhere near the comfortable looking bed then I'd most likely sleep through dinner. My stomach grumbled at the thoughts of food and so I spent my time thinking of food and death.

My thoughts of decapitation and slow roasted meat were ended by a sharp knock on my door. Rolling into a crouch, it took me a moment to realise that my body had reacted to the sound as if I was already in the games. I guess all these thoughts of death had me on edge and my reflexes and adrenaline were trying to keep up with ideas of danger and looming demise.

"_Oh my little_ Rowan" the escort's voice sounded through the door and I was at it a moment later, almost wrenching the wood off its hinges. He didn't seem surprised by my sudden appearance and simply smiled at me, obviously finding my irritation humorous. I grumbled something incoherent at him, stepping into his personal space so he had to back up to allow me out of my room.

"What's your name anyway?" I asked, leaning against my now closed door after I attempted to lock in it vain.

"Orion Ewing, at your _service_" He inclined his head, not missing a single beat. Was it that obvious that I hadn't been paying attention to him at the reaping? "Dinner is _served_"

And with his hand nestled on the small of my back, he escorted me back to the room where the male tribute was already sitting, his hands itching to reach towards the ridiculous amounts of food that were laid across the table on their own silver dishes. I don't think I'd ever seen that much food before in my whole entire life and, as the smells assaulted me, my stomach grumbled once again, making its presence known to the entire room. Orion merely chuckled and led me to a setting at the table, even being so kind as to hold out my chair for me. My eyes followed him as he took his own seat at the head of the table and looked at the two of us.

"Do either of you have _any questions_ before your attention is consumed by this delightful _spread_?" he intertwined his fingers and rested his chin on them as his eyes came to rest on me.

"Where's our mentor?" My counterpart asked, his voice slightly higher than I remembered from the reaping earlier. I tried my hardest not to giggle at it and keep my face composed.

"_Unfortunately_, district nine has no current victor of the hunger games to mentor you _fine young tributes_." He sighed, feigning some sort of sadness. "The capitol has left it _up_ _to me_ to perform the role of both escort and mentor for you two young people."

"Why don't we have a victor?" he interrupted again, eager to ask all of his questions

"Unfortunately, _Rosemary, _victor of the twenty-ninth _Hunger _Games, was killed in the second Quarter Quell. Such a fantastic _set of_ games, don't _you _think?"

We didn't answer him.

"So, _any more questions_?"

"What's your name?" I asked, repeating myself from moments before but this time I directed my question towards the young man across the table from me.

He sat staring at me for a moment, the silence that hung between us eventually broken by Orion's laughter that seemed to burst from his lips, as if he had been trying to hold it. His gloved hands slapped against the table top repeatedly and I was close to grabbing my glass in fear of the crystal toppling over. We waited patiently for him to calm down and, eventually, he did, wiping black marks of tears from his eyes where his eye makeup had ran.

"Atlas Maine" The male tribute turned his attention back to me, his eyes narrowing. "You'd want to have a better attention span than that if you're going to survive for more than an hour in these games, little girl."

"Your name is the last thing I need to know about you, Atlas" I answered, never breaking his gaze.

"Now, now; _play nice_ kids." Orion interrupted, the ghost of a smile still stretching across his coloured lips. I never realised just how ridiculous he looked until I got up close and personal. And he seemed to stress odd words in his sentences, like he had his own way of speaking and sense of intonation "Let's _eat_, shall we?"

I watched as Atlas reached for specific foods, piling them onto his plate. Realizing that he was filling his plate with meat and heavy foods such as bread and pasta, I copied his meal only lessening the amount I took. It had been a while since I'd eaten to the point where I felt full and I didn't want to make myself ill. Orions' eyes followed my movements but I ignored him, wondering what his fascination was with me.

"I _like you_" He commented, causing both Atlas and I to look up from our plates and towards the eccentric man. His gaze was still firmly locked on me and I waited for him to continue, fighting the urge to grab my napkin and twist it to death. Or, at least, to the point of being horribly wrinkled. "You have _brains_ kid; I'll give you that, even if you_ have_ proven to be a little…hmmm…_silly_ at times. I may actually be able to make a _victor_ out of you."

Atlas slammed down the serving spoons, his eyes blazing. I simply nodded and picked up my fork and began eating. What was Orion doing? Not only had he blatantly revealed that he was now focusing solely on me, but he had just given me an enemy in the form of Atlas. What was I supposed to do with that? Atlas was clearly in this thing to win, if his form and cocky attitude at the reaping were any indication.

"You should pay _more attention_ kid" Orion slapped Atlas lightly across the head, the latter promptly began choking on his food. "The girl you just said _doesn't pay attention_ has realised that you're bigger and stronger than her; so she's copied exactly what you're eating to try and bulk up over the next few days. I'd watch out for her buddy, _unless_ you want a knife in the back and your cannon _sounding_ through the arena."

I paused, fork in my mouth, as I became aware of the change in Orion's voice, the stressed words sounding harsher. No longer did he sound like an ostentatious, deluded Capitol fool; he sounded like a mentor, if a slightly deranged one. He'd picked up on what I had been doing almost instantly and his actions towards Atlas were not what I was expecting from someone in his position. Perhaps he would actually suit the role of a mentor, in some way, shape or form. Atlas was trying to form a coherent sentence, his gaze switching from Orion and then back to me. He eventually seemed to give up and returned to his food, glancing at me over his fork every now and then. Again, my temper flared at Orion. He didn't exactly have to point out that I was more aware of things than I seemed. I wasn't naïve; I knew there were girls in the games who were more cunning than I was. Most of them would be stronger and faster and able to kill. Believe me, I wasn't deluding myself into thinking I could win these games but that wasn't going to stop me from trying. The fact that I wasn't obviously strong or able meant that I would have to employ different tactics, but it seemed like Orion was head set on revealing these tactics to my district 'partner'.

"I'm just _leveling_ the playing field here, petal." He seemed to almost read my thoughts and I forced myself not to stare at him. "Atlas clearly has an _advantage_ over you, physically at least. I thought that, _to be a fair mentor_, I should let him in on _one_ of your skills, at least."

And then I realised what he was doing or, to be more accurate; I thought I did. Was he trying to make me seem intimidating? By letting Atlas know that I was more aware than I let on, he was making me seem, well, menacing. I glanced at Orion out of the corner of my eye, slightly amazed at the Capitol man that was now dabbing delicately at his painted lips with a white napkin. It would be easy to underestimate him; I know I had. To me, he was just the man who called out the names of the children who would die in the arena. He was nothing more than a squawking bird, parading his feathers for the approval of the Capitol. Instead, he was proving to be so much more and it seemed as if I had him partially on my side, something that I had probably undervalued at first and was too quick to dismiss. He would probably turn out to be one of the most important allies I could make during these hellish games.

"That's fair I guess" I spoke, hoping to prove that my theory was correct. "I would want to give you a decent chance against me. It's not fair on you, or the Capitol, if I kill you within the first thirty seconds of the Game."

I was bluffing and hoping that Atlas wouldn't see through it. He stared at me, eyes tightening and I couldn't help but swallow lightly, nerves making my fingers tremble ever so slightly. Thankfully, he was too busy staring at my face which I kept in a cool, calm mask to notice the other obvious signs of my lie. I highly doubted that I had the ability to kill anyone, let alone have it be a premeditated murder. The games changed people, I knew that. But at the same time, it wasn't my morals that were stopping me or any strange notion of belonging to my district and wanting to team with my fellow tribute; it was my physical inabilities and limitations. It was true that Atlas towered over me but I'm sure many of the other tributes would, considering my frame was rather short and nonthreatening. Perhaps Atlas knew this, and was hoping that I didn't have any ridiculous hidden abilities like disappearing into shadows or having perfect aim with a flying dagger. In truth, I had some sense of stealth but I never considered my aim with anything particularly good. With one final appraisal of my face, he returned to his food and I worried that mine own pastas and meats had begun to turn cold.

"Oh _my little flower_" Orion chimed, dipping his silver spoon back into the green liquid that I assumed was soup that sat in a bowl in front of him. "I'm beginning to like _you _and your chances of _winning_ more and more.

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_**So I hope you guys enjoyed. I'm hoping to keep updates at a weekly basis. Until then my dears :)**_


	3. Chapter 3

_**Hey guys, here's the next chapter. A thank you to Cairn Destop for the reviews; I appreciate it. Hope you enjoy this chapter everyone! **_

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My small adventures through our compartment after dinner revealed nothing new; the train was lavishly and needlessly decorated with everything I could imagine. The carpeted floor was a rich, dark red and I was tempted to remove my worn boots to feel how soft the carpet was against my feet. Silver shutters now covered the windows, the rooms lit by glass chandeliers that twinkled delicately above my head. They were perfectly still, no clinking of glass that would indicate our movement. You couldn't even tell we were moving, even at this speed. There was a small mini bar filled with coloured liquids in crystal canisters and tumblers which I took my time to sniff through, my eyes watering at some of the stronger fragrances of alcohol. There were small, silver vases of unknown flowers dotted here and there on dark wooden side tables. The couches and armchairs were all covered in soft materials and I had to refrain from testing out those, knowing that if I sank into one of them that I would never make it back to my room.

For someone who was about to run towards her own death, it was strange that I was so exhausted, physically at least. My mind, however, was at work and I hoped to sate it by exploring a little bit. Atlas had retired to his room once dinner was over and Orion had disappeared without a word, leaving only his emptied bowl and napkin behind. The table had been cleared by the time I returned to that area.

"Those Avox really are quiet," I spoke aloud, a habit I had never shaken off, despite the fact that it led many people to look at me strangely.

"Maybe you _should take_ lessons from them then," Orion spoke from the door that led into another part of the train, supposedly another compartment since it was towards the end of a hall that was on the opposite side of the carriage to our rooms.

I spun around to face him, trying not to portray my surprise at his arrival and, apparently, failing. He chuckled, moving to take a glass from the mini bar and filling it with a golden liquid. After ushering me closer with a curl of his finger, we sat opposite one another on the lush chairs. I silently cursed myself as I realised they were every bit as pleasant to sit in as I assumed they would be, my body instantly relaxing at the comfort. Realising that he had yet to speak and simply sat staring at me, swirling the liquid in his glass with a turn of his wrist, I snapped away from my thoughts of luxuries and focused instead on the man that sat before me.

"So…" I trailed off, realising that I had spoken before I could think of what I wanted to say; a 'thank you' seemed ridiculous in this situation.

"So, how do you _plan_ on winning?" He said.

"I don't," I answered simply, holding his gaze as he took a sip of the liquid. "I like to live in reality."

"Well then _maybe_ you should _change_ your game plan and come _live_ in my world, _sweets_. I wasn't joking with you petal; I think you have a _real shot_ of winning this thing." He paused, moving his gaze to the liquid. "On the _other hand_, you could keep this little attitude of yours and die in the games, most likely killed by your _own_ _district partner_."

"Most likely," I kept my voice steady. Why in the world did he have such an interest with me? "Are you trying to toy with my reality? Get my hopes up before you send me off to the slaughter?"

He held my gaze for a moment, analyzing me. I could feel the slight sparks of hope beginning to form and it seemed so easy to trust this man, the one person who seemed to want to help me in a situation where I felt very much alone. And despite the fact that every instinct I had was screaming at me not to believe him, to not let him get my hopes up; I found myself hanging on his every word.

"Well then, before you _prance off_ to your death, answer me one thing," He set the now empty glass on the table and leaned forward. "Why did you _volunteer_?"

The 'for yourself' was left unsaid but I understood what he meant; would I still have volunteered if it was someone else's name who had been drawn?

"Because every year I was sick of waiting for my name to be drawn," I answered immediately, laughing slightly at myself. "What are the chances that the one year I grow brave enough to volunteer that my name is pulled?"

"I don't think chance has _anything_ to do with it sweet pea. I'd say it was luck."

Weren't chance and luck the same thing? I had expected his question though; didn't everyone want to know why a girl from district nine would volunteer? Apart from the fact I had done so for myself.

"Maybe I can't win the games but I've got nothing to lose," I smiled slightly then. "And maybe with some of this luck, I might actually get further than the first blood bath."

He was quiet for a moment, a silence I couldn't interpret. Perhaps he thought of me as foolish now and regretted his previous actions. Whatever the reason for the silence, it made me slightly uncomfortable but I didn't dare to move.

"_That's_ your edge," He finally spoke, sitting back and smiling. I mirrored his actions but a smile wasn't present on my face for long.

"My edge?"

"_Yes_, your edge!" he clapped his hands together, returning for a moment to the persona of the excited Capitol man who loved trains. "This is our _plan_; a _reckless _young woman who'll throw herself into the _fight_ because she has 'nothing to _lose_'; someone who relies on luck and spontaneous-ness."

"So you want me to rely purely on dumb luck?"

"_Not exactly,_" He laughed again and then seemed to appraise me for a moment.

"What I mean is; you _need the sort_ of attitude that is endearing. We need to make you _someone who_ is enigmatic yet charming, someone the capitol would want to back. Maybe we can add _some sensuality_ into the mix too." He paused to look at me and then seemed to rethink that idea. "Or maybe not, we'll work on it. And _who knows; _maybe you'll win these games with _style_ instead of 'dumb luck'."

This man was mad. A genius definitely, despite the fact that I hadn't known him more than a day, but he was stark raving mad. Did he really think I stood a chance of winning these games?

"But how in the world am I supposed to do that? I'm not exactly a fearless heroine and I have zero skill. Besides, I'm pretty sure most of the tributes will want allies that can actually benefit them somehow, like those beautiful people from the careers."

"Usually, but it's not just having a _pretty face_ or a _nice body_. It's all in the _attitude_. As much as you should try _following the advice_ I'm giving you, always try to be yourself as much as possible. These _people _can spot a phony a mile away."

Pondering on his word, my teeth began working on my bottom lip, nibbling at the soft flesh. Looks didn't really matter when you were in the middle of a field cutting down grain, or trapped in a factory trying to work with and mend machines that could possibly take your limb or your life if you weren't careful enough. But apparently, in the Capitol and the games, they had the potential to help me win.

"_I don't _think your image needs that much _work _anyway," he commented, trained eyes appraising me. "You need a little clean up and you're not the prettiest face I've ever seen. And you're a bit too short for my liking, but you have one thing going for you: quite a gorgeous natural colour, if I do say so myself," He gestured to my hair.

"I was going to cut it," I spoke what first came to mind since I didn't know how to respond to a comment like that. I was still trying to figure out whether there had been a compliment lurking about in there somewhere "It's too long for the games right? Length like this will just get in the way."

"No, no, _no_, no!" He slapped my leg, leaning even closer to me. "Your hair is what makes your stand _out. _Don't cut it, tie it _back_."

I nodded, my mind drifting to that green ribbon I had hidden away in my room. It would be something unique to me, a clear token that might just help me stand out that little bit more despite the fact that I was still confused by it, refusing to believe that I had taken it for mere sentimental value. But, nevertheless, it would be useful now.

"You really are a genius," I mumbled, watching as he took a lock of my hair and began twisting the end between his fingers. Again, I had spoken out loud but this time, I felt less embarrassed. This man had something about him that lulled you into a false sense of security; he made you at ease and yet kept you on your toes at the same time. He made you speak the truth and every thought that came in to your head, insignificant or otherwise. He was a mastermind, a mad, contradictive, interesting mastermind.

"Why _thank you_, my dear. What a _lovely_ compliment from s_uch a _lovely lady."

"You're dangerous too," My voice was slightly teasing as I leaned forward, copying his actions from earlier and invading his space so he had to drop the hair he was playing with. "Somehow, I'm sort of glad we don't have a victor as a mentor and I got you instead. Lucky for me she's dead, huh?"

"_Now_ that's the _attitude_ you need in the Games." He giggled this time, the high pitched tone so different to the harsher, deeper way his voice was when he spoke with me.

Despite the fact that he looked like he belonged in the middle of the Capitol, gossiping over who was wearing what clothes, he seemed like more than that to me and I got the feeling that, even though I had just known him a day, I could spend years getting to know him and I still wouldn't be able to predict what he was going to say and do. It was almost like there was a part of him that didn't function the way everyone else did, as if he knew this own, private joke about the world that he wasn't going to tell anyone. And yet he kept up this image of superiority and foolhardiness that I assumed was a charming personality in the eyes of the Capitol. And there was also a side to him that was almost threatening, like holding a snake by the tail; he could swing around and bite you at any stage, simply adding more to the unpredictability of his character.

Or maybe I had made a horrible judgement and was completely off mark. Whatever the case, I was extremely pleased he seemed to be my ally; he would be an extremely formidable person to have as an enemy and I made a mental note to never get on his bad side.

"But _remember,_" he lurched forward and grasped my chin, forcing me to stare at him "Not _all_ endearing people are obviously attractive in the looks department; there needs to be some _vulnerability_ in there too, along with this _little attitude_ of yours. You may have _kept yourself guarded_ for a while but it wouldn't be the worst thing to open yourself _up during these games a little_. Most mentors advise against it but I think it could work in your favour. Some boys like that; they like to feel that they can _protect_ you. You just need to find the right balance and _learn_ to read people. Now that, my little Rowan, _I can_ teach you how to do."

I was pulled forward, his lips pressing against my forehead for a moment before my face was released and he was up, out of his chair. Blinking away the shock from his sudden moments, I watched him stroll away, hands in the pockets of his silver pants, empty glass forgotten on the table beside our chairs. The way he spoke made the conversation so intense. He had effectively just offered to teach me how to win the games. Sure, he was supposed to be our mentor, but this seemed to go beyond what his job description was. He was seriously going to try and help me win; the scrawny, unknown girl from district nine. The only problem now, after all the training and charming was done, was seeing if I could survive.

Finally giving into the demands of my body, and feeling now mentally drained from my discussion with Orion, I headed to bed. Images of deaths again danced in front of my eyes as I prepared to fall into a blissfully unaware sleep. There was no dreaming for me when it came to the games; I either won or I lost. Winning would mean riches and a house and losing would mean my death. Neither outcome appealed to me greatly, despite the fact that one was obviously more positive than the other. It really was true that I had nothing to lose, apart from my own life. I fell asleep with an empty feeling in my stomach and a chill I couldn't shake.

With a start, I awoke, a loud knock reverberating through the room from the door. A voice called out to me and it took my brain a few moments to recognise it. With heavy limbs, I pulled myself from my safe haven, my predictably restful sleep causing me to feel sluggish and unaware. I guess waking up quickly like I had yesterday, and trying to not slip completely into such a deep sleep would be something I would have to work on for the games. Although, I highly doubted I would be getting a sleep like that when I was running for my life. Making it to the door, I pulled it back, gentler than I had the day before. Orion was at the other side, his charming smile in place and his outfit as blinding and ridiculous as it had been the day before.

"Good _morning_, my little sweet," He was too cheerful for the morning, I decided. "Come join _us_ for breakfast. We have a lot to _talk _about today."

Before he left, he tapped one long finger against the side of his nose. Completely oblivious to what he meant, I retreated back into my room for a shower and to dress for the day. The silver device, which wasn't as difficult to work as I had originally anticipated, was a wonderful contraption that not only relaxed my stiff muscles with gloriously hot water that had a slight scent to it which matched the soaps and oils, but actually dried my hair and body as well. Scoffing slightly at the sheer laziness and impatience of the Capitol people, I returned to my room, rummaging through my wardrobe as I decided what to wear. With a pair of pants in one hand and a shirt in the other, my brain finally kicked into gear and the meaning of Orions' words and gestures finally hit me.

"Oh," I mumbled to myself, realizing that he probably wanted to keep our conversation from yesterday quiet and not mention it in front of Atlas.

It was rather frustrating, to try and guess what people meant all the time. Why he couldn't have just said that was beyond me! My guess was that he was completely aware of how mysterious he appeared to people and that he would do nothing to change that opinion. It must suit him; to have a persona like that in his line of work. He could so easily fit in with the Capitol or, at least, what I have seen of the Capitol on the small screen in the Community Home. His persona and image indicated what the Capitol might be like and it scared me slightly; I wasn't merely glamorous or outrageous enough for a place like that. With that in mind, I donned the plain clothes and left the room, my hair feeling lighter than it had ever felt before, my skin tingling as if I had shed a layer and a new was being exposed to the world. I could feel the change coming, as if I was on some edge, about to be pushed over. As a person, the games would change me despite what happened, no matter how far I got. There was no point in deluding myself with thoughts of heroism and bravery; I would fight to defend myself and I think I would be able to kill.

_Hopefully_

Whatever happened, the change was coming and I'm sure that the pair of hands I felt across my shoulder blades, ready to push me over and into oblivion and an unknown world, were familiar. They belonged to a Capitol man who was more than ready to help me win these games. With the pale green ribbon, I pulled my hair back from my face and fashioned a headband with the accessory, tying a bow at the nape of my neck. This was my token, my life line to the other side. And hopefully, I would be able to keep it free from too much blood stain.

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_**There you go guys. I hope you enjoyed that chapter. The next update may not be next week, depending how much time I have to write and how much college work I can get done :) If not; until next time! **_


	4. Chapter 4

_**Hey guys, sorry about the delay with this chapter! The next few weeks are hectic for me so I won't be updating weekly, but I'll be back on schedule soon! Enjoy chapter four! :)**_

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After breakfast and after Orion had expressed his approval of my new hair accessory, we remained at the table and began discussing strategies. Orion was being particularly, and probably intentionally, vague when it came to me. He would make a few blanket bomb comments every now and then when Atlas fell into silence or if he made some remark about my own plan, or lack of. When Atlas did, Orion would just simply begin explaining basic survival tips such as finding water as soon as possible and to not linger in one place for too long. While it may have seemed obvious to some, his hints were mostly new information to me and I listened to them attentively, knowing that something he said may make the difference between life and death for me when I was eventually in the games.

"Tributes aren't the only _thing _in the games that can kill you," Orion spoke, lacing his fingers beneath his chin and looking at me, waiting until Atlas had left the room to venture to the bathroom, leaving the two of us alone at the table. "There'll be mutations _you'll have to deal_ _with_ and, should the Gamemakers get _bored_ or decide to interfere, the arena as well. You'd be surprised by the _amount of tributes_ that seem to forget that. Kill if you can, but don't focus on it _completely_. If you're lucky, this is what will take out the careers for you because, let's face it _petal_, you really don't stand a chance against any of them."

"Right," I answered "So just stay on my toes?"

"Oh, you need to do more than that sweet, if you want to survive these _games_. You have to _disappear completely_ and, if you can actually manage to persuade a few of these tributes to become your allies, rely on the strength of others to get you to the point where it's every man for _himself_. After that, we need to work on a new _plan_ for you since I can't imagine you'll do too well when left off on your own."

"Got it," I chirped sarcastically "That should be easy; make friends with people who will most likely try to kill me; vanish into thin air; and avoid the strong tributes with the pointy objects that could impale and or decapitate me."

I didn't expect him to laugh, I actually expected him to get angry, and so the booming sound that expelled from him, similar to the one we had heard at dinner yesterday, was slightly shocking.

"_Watching you_ in your interview with Caesar is going to be fantastic!" he explained "He only _started hosting the games_ last year but he was born to do it; he is simply marvellous and really got to the tributes in the previous games. It was as if he knew _exactly what questions_ to ask!"

Biting back a snarky reply, I fell silent and just in time as the door to Atlas' room opened and the man himself appeared back out into the hall way, his eyes immediately zoning in on myself and Orion. I had unintentionally leaned closer to the eccentric man so our elbows now rested against one another. Self-consciously, I moved away again, feeling both Orion and Atlas' gazes on my face.

"It's a shame you're not prettier," Atlas commented as he took his seat at the table again, continuing his staring. "If you were, we could have made up a tragic love story or some shit like that."

I snorted, his comment stinging slightly and making me feel uncomfortable at the same time; a tragic love story? It wasn't surprising that Atlas was trying to conduct his own schemes, but I never would have figured he'd come up with something like that. Not that I think I would agree to it anyway; the careers were much better suited to killing than Atlas was, despite what he liked to believe, and I'm sure if we went in there as a couple we would just be more of a target for both the other tributes and the gamemakers. A pair of young lovers dying in order to try and save their beloved would make amazing television.

"Well then, my apologies for not having a pleasing facial structure." I snapped back, irritated that Atlas for ridiculous reasons; why should I care if he thought I was attractive or not?

"_Children_, what did I say _about playing _nice?" Orion seemed to scold us, wagging his finger. "Now, when we're done _here, _go occupy _yourselves_ until lunch. The footage from the _reaping_ will be broadcast sometime after noon. I'm sure the both of you are very _interested_ in seeing who your competitors will be."

"They're finished already?" I blurted.

"_They _will be petal. You should know _by now_ that the Capitol is very," He waved his hands through the air, as if swatting away a fly as he tried to find the correct word he was looking for. "Efficient"

He made it sound like we were taking part in some juvenile contest with some frivolous prize for the winner. But seeing the other tributes should be interesting. If nothing, it should at least give me a sense of who I would be up against or who would be most likely to kill me, or not if that was the case. I wanted to at least speak to Orion before the reaping was broadcast; I needed to know what to look out for in the other tributes and to categorize them, figure out which ones I might be able to form some alliance with and which ones I should definitely stay away from.

Atlas left the table after a short pause; kicking his chair out and claiming one of the more comfortable chairs that faced the flat, silver screen. A surprising wave of nausea passed through me but I swallowed it down, slightly disturbed by the sudden show of nerves. Perhaps it was the realisation that things were finally becoming serious, that soon I'd be seeing the faces of people who, within the next week or so, would be trying to kill me. Or perhaps it was the fact that I'd tried to copy Atlas again at this meal and ate far too much meat for breakfast. That was probably it.

"Come," a gloved hand was presented before my face, palm pointed towards me "Sit _with_ me"

I took Orion's offered hand and was led to a loveseat, slightly away from Atlas but close to a window. Pulling me down, Orion leaned back and wrapped an arm around my shoulder, tugging me towards the soft material of his suit. Sitting against him, I was turned towards his face and, beyond him, the window where my gaze was drawn and my eyes tried to catch the scenery that blurred past. Flashes of green whizzed by but I had no idea where we were or what district we were in. I could feel Atlas' heated gaze on my face and I couldn't help but think that he was somehow jealous that Orion had seemingly picked me as his favourite of his two. I used to think that the escorts were the ones who remained detached from their tributes, simply there to advertise them to potential sponsors. It was only the mentors who learned their tributes and so shared the nightmares if the fell in the games. I wondered if any other tribute was lucky enough to have created a bond with their mentor as quickly as I seemed to have with our own escort/mentor. With him finally sitting still, his steady breathes pressing his chest further against my side, I took the chance to study him.

Orion's already defined jaw was outlined by the shades of verdant nature that rushed past. He had a nicely shaped face, with a long, straight nose that was overshadowed by a thick brow. His eyes were a startling shade of green and I was glad that I finally had a chance to study him, noticing small things about him that would have otherwise been overlooked by the grandiose Capitol fashion and eccentric personality. A tiny scar marred the cheekbone that was facing me, highlighted silver against his flesh. His hair sat perfectly atop his head in a style I presumed was popular in the Capitol, with a piece of hair that hung at the front that he had to flick out of his eyes every now and then. Bare faced, I was glad that he had kept his visage free of makeup today as it made my inspection of him that much easier.

"If you analyse _every _tribute as well as you do _me_" he murmured, a hint of humour in his voice "Then you're sure to find out lots about _your _potential prey."

The way he said prey, almost like a purr, sent a slight shiver down my spine, despite the fact that my skin felt pleasantly warm. He hadn't turned to look at me when he spoke, but his lips had pulled up into a smirk, the scar crinkling into his cheek.

"Maybe I'm just practicing," I breathed, conscious to keep my voice quiet so that Atlas, who had turned from glaring at me to switch on the silver screen and watch announcements from the Capitol as the lead up to the reaping began, wouldn't be able to hear us. "Have any advice for me, oh Orion the wise?"

"I quite like that name."

"You are far too easily pleased." I scoffed, poking him in the side. "Can you just tell me what I'm supposed to look out for in the tributes? I need to divide them between potential buddies, stay aways-ies, and people I can actually kill-sies."

"Remember to keep this _humour of yours_ at the forefront when you talk to Caesar _petal_." He giggled, his knee beginning to bounce slightly.

"Orion, I'm serious. You won't be in that training room with me." He turned to look at me then, his eyes meeting mine and the bounce of his knee increasing. "I'm scared"

"I was waiting _for you_ to say that" He answered, pulling me tighter to him in what I presume he thought to be a comforting gesture. "It seems like a natural reaction, maybe a _bit delayed_ for you."

"I'm not afraid to die" I corrected, trying not to notice that fact that my body was almost laid flush against his side, his own knee touching my own every time he lowered it in the sporadic rhythm he seemed to tap out with his heel. "I'm terrified of the pain. I'm terrified of allowing myself to believe you, to believe in this false hop you've given to me and then for it to be taken all away by a sharp blade and a solid thrust. And of being forgotten"

I glanced at him, his eyes tightening into little crinkles as he watched me.

"I don't want to be forgotten."

It was the first time I had spoken the truth about how I felt about the games, to anyone. And even as I uttered the words I could feel my stomach clench painfully. Despite the fact that I really had nothing to lose, apart from this ridiculous hope he had begun to ignite in me, I arrogantly didn't want to be just another bony child killed on a screen in an instant, soon to be forgotten by the people of Panem. To be just another body thrown into a wooden box and buried in some patch of earth by the people of my district seemed like such a sad way to end a sad life. I wanted to do something before I died, be someone that the world would remember, for a little while at least.

"_One _person will remember you." He muttered, breaking my gaze and turning back to stare forward. I felt touched by his comment until;

"I'm _pretty sure_ Atlas is going to remember you. That is, _up 'til _he is inevitably chopped up _into little tiny_ pieces."

The dull _smack_ of my palm against his knee seemed to break the silence and we both began giggling, his hold tightening so I was pulled even closer, my hand resting across his chest which heaved with each giggle that escaped him. It took me a moment to notice that, along with my laughter; tears had begun to leak from my eyes and run down my cheeks in a sticky mess. His comment had acted as a giant hammer that had broken down a wall of tension that had been building up since my name was pulled from the bowl. The release had allowed a sharp focus to replace the tension, as if my body was free for another little while until the same tension would mount. It seemed that was how I functioned as a person; held things in until something would break my wall and I would have a cry. Sometimes, it was over nothing and I would feel foolish. But right now, in the arms of my escort with his shiny suit pressed against my face, I was more grateful than ever that I operated like this. It would mean that keeping my focus during training sessions would make it a lot easier and maybe, just maybe, in the games I would be able to handle more than what people would presume I could. The emptiness, a cleansing, safe emptiness, settled in my chest and I allowed myself to finally wipe the tears away, sniffling unattractively.

"You my _sweets_" he gasped, his chest slowly heaving as he pulled in air "I am glad to have _met _you. Perhaps, under better circumstances would have been ideal, but we don't live in a perfect _world_"

"If this was a perfect world, I would have lots of money and you would find me ridiculously and irresistibly attractive" I countered, biting my lip to keep a smile off my face once I had said it.

"Are you saying that _I'm _the attractive one then?" He concluded after a moment's pause.

"Only you would take my musings of an idealistic world as a compliment on your attractiveness."

"Ah ha!" He proclaimed, his knee resuming the bounce at an even faster pace. "So you DO _think_ I'm attractive!"

"Yes, oh deluded one; whatever you say."

And maybe that little break had also broken the barriers between myself and Orion. I would never have dreamed in my, well, yesterday that we would be sitting on a loveseat, bodies pressed closely together and conversing so naturally. It was as if the games didn't even exist and I couldn't help but thinking on what Orion had said; if this was the perfect world I would have loved to have met him outside this hell. It was only then that I felt any injustice towards this situation; both Atlas and I had volunteered of our own will and the games just seemed like something we had to accept, an aspect of our lives that we couldn't change. But I finally found someone that I actually thought I could grow to care for. And soon, they would be gone from my life when I was sent to my death. I could feel the harsh slap of reality kicking in and I realised what I was doing; I was allowing myself to believe in Orion and, more ridiculously, believe in myself and my ability to win the games.

"It's a shame I'm going to have to die soon" I all but whispered, my hand crinkling into a fist.

"And who says _you're going _to die?" He countered, his voice sounding quite harsh in comparison to the slight whimsical tones he normally spoke in.

"It's pretty obvious I'm not going to win these games" My voice sounded angry and I finally sat up and away from him, breaking any physical contact we had. "As much as I'm enjoying this because, don't get me wrong, your company is lovely; I need to start being realistic. I came into this thing knowing that I would die. You can't give me hope now."

"_Just_ when I thought I was getting _through to you_." He sat up also, turning to give me his full attention. I hated the fact that I had just ruined everything. Why couldn't I have just basked in the moment of humour? Why couldn't I have just let him try and help me, despite how ridiculous and futile it was?

"Face it Orion; even if I can make an alliance with people, I'm not going to win these games. Even if I had all the luck in the world" I dropped my gaze, banging my closed fist against my head as if to hit out the ideas he had put in my head, as I searched for the reality I had grasped when I had volunteered at the reaping. "Stop trying to delude me into thinking I can win. It's fine; just concentrate on Atlas."

"Now _petal,_ you really don't mean that." He tugged my hand from my head, causing me to glance sharply at him. "You _need me_. And I _can_ help you win. Reality is _so boring_. Let's give them something fantastical, _something unexpected_. Let's make you a _victor_, eh?"

"To hell with it" I mumbled, officially losing most of my sanity and sense of reality.

If he was so eager to convince me that I could win then who was I to dissuade him otherwise? It would be like blowing up one of his nice, shiny trains even with the fact that it was broken down and of no use to anybody, just to spite him.

"If you really want to help me win this, then fine. I promise to listen to everything you have to say. Just try not to get my hopes up too much or I might start thinking I have a chance at winning this thing." I sounded more defeated than defensive as I fell back into the couch.

"That's _what _I like to _hear_" he chuckled, his knee finally stopping its bouncing and his shined show resting against the couch. "Like I _said; _I want to make you a victor who wins with style instead of luck. And when you are named as victor, it's going to shock the world."

He stood then, releasing my hand and leaving me alone on the couch. I glanced toward Atlas but his eyes remained glued to the screen, flicking across the racing colours and the voices, whoever was talking, hummed through the compartment. Orion stretched, reaching his hands high above his head as the material of his shirt strained to break free from his pants line. Hands clenched as fists in my lap, I watched as his gaze moved from Atlas, to across the compartment and then to out the window and then lazily it fell back to me again.

"And this old world of ours could use a good shock."

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_**Hope you enjoyed that! :) See you all next chapter!**_


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